


Good Luck Charm

by ItsAutumnHereFriend



Series: Yearning [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inferiority Complex, Lots of Touching, Wandering Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 18:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21001856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAutumnHereFriend/pseuds/ItsAutumnHereFriend
Summary: The realization of a commonality between you and Akira occur between deprecating thoughts and comfort. With you by his side, Akira feels that he's more capable than what he gives himself credit for.





	Good Luck Charm

Akira is a sight to behold no matter the state he is in. He hides away his stress in the best of ways, nearly to perfection to the untrained eye. You’ve seen Akira work, only to fall asleep at his desk. You’ve seen him stay in the office for days -- which he’s gotten better at avoiding, due to your nagging. You’ve seen how his dedication burns bright, and he refuses to let himself rest. He refuses to let his exhaustion be known, because of course, his work is far more important. Yet even Akira can’t keep up appearances for too long.

His skewed tie and eyebags are an indication of his lack of sleep, miniscule details even Akira can’t manage to fix in his exhaustion. 

You wonder if it’s normal to study a person this closely. So closely that you’ve managed to write a whole dissertation on his character in your head.

You shake your head, forcing your gaze to land on the papers in your hands.

You have enough self-control to read at least a sentence or two before you glance at Akira again. The files in your hands pale in comparison to the way that Akira leans his back towards his desk, squinting away the sleep in his eyes. The way that he taps his foot whenever he’s idle for far too long is endearing -- he keeps himself awake by constantly moving -- his head jerks, and he continues to blink the heavy crust of sleep in his eyes to no avail.

You take one more look at the files in your grasp before placing them down onto the table opposite his desk. You won’t be able to focus anyway, not with Akira here. Because Akira is far more interesting than the files you’ve read countless of times before today’s trial.

He has yet to abandon the papers in his hands as you approach him. His eyebrows are scrunched together, and he’s made it a habit to squint at the text every so often. It proves worthless. If anything, he’s only getting sleepier.

You can’t help but sigh. You know Akira’s memorized the case front to back, even more so than you, you bet. Yet he’s been reading the entire case over and over again. It’s endearing, but…

You tug at one of his rolled sleeves, both exposing his forearms. “You’re tiring yourself out.” As if he didn’t know in the first place.

Akira breathes deeply and places the files down on his desk, arms now hanging limp by his sides. His fingers twitch. You wouldn’t have known had your own decided not to skim his forearm and linger near the base of his palm.

When had you gotten so bold?

The two of you remain still. He hasn’t complained, hasn’t moved away from you. If anything, he seems to enjoy the warmth you radiate. Like a blanket wrapping around him -- he only wants you closer.

Akira’s eyes flick to your lips. You’re staring too hard at his tie, not bold enough to meet his stare. Your afraid to see his expression, but maybe he’s already fallen asleep standing up, and you quite like the feeling of his skin on yours. You’d miss it too much if you let go now.

Although, his tie irks you. Skewed slightly to the left, just enough to be unnoticeable, but noticeable to those who  _ know _ him. It’s out of place with the rest of his clothes that he’s meticulously made neat. 

It would be a shame for him to walk into the courtroom with his poorly tied tie drawing everyone’s attention; stealing the glory of his slicked back hair.

Yet you don’t want to let go. Your fingers press into his palm unconsciously. Akira makes to close his hand around yours, but you’ve already let go to trace your hands up his chest, fixing his tie with shaky fingers.

Once fixed, you let your fingers slide down his tie, your index and thumb pinching at the base of his tie.

“Nice colour. It suits you.“ It truly is a beautiful colour on him. The way his cheeks become blotched with red only attests to your thoughts.

Akira clears his throat, looking to the side. You tug at his tie, gaining back his attention. Your hand falls by your side soon after. It rests against Akira’s.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper. “You got this. You know this case thoroughly. And you have me, too.”

“I have you, huh…” He echoes, and for some reason his words and faraway look in his eyes make you stutter. You don’t want to think about it. Not when the trial you’ve both prepared so hard for looms far too closely for your liking.

You’re nervous too, naturally. If anything, the outcome of this trial will conclude if you’re good enough to stay by Akira’s side. What good is a paralegal if they can’t keep up with their lawyer?

You nod. “Uh, to lean on. Y’know? Count on me. I’ll be there for you. To help you.” You stare pointedly at the papers he had put down behind him. The very files you had prepared and proofed for him.

Akira’s cheeks blossom with a smile. “If we win this, you’re going to have to be my good luck charm.”

“If? We’ll definitely win.”

  
  
  
  


Despite the way you got him to relax a bit in his office, Akira’s mind is still jumbled with facts about the case and outcomes he’d rather not think about. The only time you had seen him visibly relax for only a few moments were during the car ride there, and when you were with him in his office. (He won’t say it, but with your close proximity, even if he didn’t want to, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling relieved.)

You can tell Akira’s mind is cluttered both with unwanted thoughts and facts he  _ has _ to remember as he drives. His fingers drum on the gear shift. Something he does when there’s a lot on his mind.

It’s attractive to see him work relentlessly, and with a passion you wish you had, but you wish he would relax a bit more.

You thought you’d be able to be there for him so that he could relax and take care of himself more. Yet it only seems like you’ve added more stress for him, because he was never like this before you partnered with him. He never looked like his stress ate him alive when he’d ask you out for lunch, and maybe you really have caused him more stress, more things to fix, and --

“Why did you become an attorney?” Your brain demands to ask, lest you burrow too deeply into your emotions. You’d rather not cry in front of him.

You didn’t realize that it would be such a loaded question. You didn’t realize that he became an attorney because he had a run in with the police. Framed for a crime he didn’t commit. Outcasted by society all for a crime he didn’t even do, simply because he wanted to help.

The thought makes you clench your fists. You can’t even imagine what he had to go through.

“No one deserves that,” Akira continues. “No one should have to. I want to protect these people from that.”

You exhale a shaky breath. “I can’t believe… My god, you’re amazing.”

Akira laughs, shaking his head. “I’d rather think you are. You’ve helped me a lot, preparing this case.”

“It’s my job, silly.” But the thought bubbles warmth through you, soothing the bout of critical thoughts moments prior.

As Akira drives to the courthouse, the two of you share stories of the past. Ones that make you laugh, and ones that make your heart churn.

“I can’t believe he actually did that!” You say, in between bouts of laughter.

“He did. Then Ryuji got caught between some crossdressers because of Ann.”

“And you just left him there to  _ die? _ ”

“And we just left him there to die.”

Your laughter resounds against the music quietly playing in the background. If you could lean against Akira, you would have.

A smile sneaks its way onto his lips. His fingers twitch, itching to hold yours. The stress is worth it, Akira thinks. If only he gets to see you loosen up and laugh like this.

  
  
  
  


Exactly like a statue, Akira remains leaning his back on his desk after the trial, still looking frazzled. The trial had gone well, not without a few hiccups -- but such is life. 

Looking at Akira still trapped within his thoughts only remind you of all the times you’ve wallowed in self-deprecating thoughts, even if it were during times of celebration. Even now, you wonder how you could have done a better job to help him.

It’s a mindless loop. One so difficult to get out of on one’s own. So you walk to him, slowly approaching, waiting for signs to back off. He gives you none. He looks at you, but doesn’t say anything. 

You lean into him, forehead bumping into his -- because what is your job but to help him? This, you could at least do for him.

“Hey. We did it.” Your voice almost wavers at the sullen look in his eyes.

Akira’s eyes glaze at yours, as if he couldn’t really see you. His eyes fall shut slowly, basking in your warmth.

It’s silent before he hesitantly brings his hands close to your wait but never touching. “Can I… Hold you?” His voice nearly breaks at his vulnerability -- at how accepting and kind you had always been to him. How he doesn’t deserve it.

“...Yeah,” you whisper back. Anything to make those feelings disappear.

His arms wind their way around you. His head leans against yours as you clutch onto his back.

“You did such a good job,” you say. Because he has. He is.

Your breath touches the back of his neck. You can feel him shudder against you.

He chuckles, and it’s your turn to shiver. He replies softly, so softly you think you’ve imagined his words. “I had my good luck charm with me.”

You tilt your head downwards so that your lips barely skim his neck. Akria can feel your smile against his skin.

He squeezes you against him just a bit harder.

  
  
  
  


That night, as you get ready for bed, your phone buzzes on your nightstand. Your room illuminates with a text from Akira.

u really are a good luck charm.

youre sweet. i think we make a pair, you and i

i couldnt have done this without you.

youre an amazing lawyer, akira

all i did was fuel your coffee addiction LOL

am i making urs worse?

who would i be, if i cant get someone to be

addicted to coffee?

youre a loser

you should open up your own cafe

u think so?

i’ll have to get u to try my own brews sometime

im looking forward to it :)

Your cheeks hurt with the force of your smile. Suddenly, you can barely think of a reason to be tired as your phone buzzes with every text. Beyond the screen, you wonder if he’s just as excited as you are.

That night you set his contact name as “good luck charm” and unbeknownst to you, Akira does the same for yours.

  
  
  
  


It was an oddity to meet someone on the same wavelength as Akira, even if you or Akira don’t notice how in sync the both of you are.

Ann glances at Ryuji. Ryuji’s staring shocked at the pair. He’s been like that for far too long. Ann’s glad that you’re preoccupied with Akira. She wouldn’t want you to think Ryuji’s weird, even if he actually is.

Ryuji’s staring isn’t even worth it. You and Akira are simply speaking to each other about the case. Sometimes you’d make an odd gesture to fill in gaps that you couldn’t quite word properly, and Akira would nod as if he’d understood. Sometimes Akira would hum and you’d understand what he’s trying to get at.

Ann and Ryuji know how Akira is in the office. Quiet. He prefers to keep quiet, working diligently (or that’s what it seemed like, at least. Ann knows for a fact that he shitposts on Twitter frequently. Far too frequently for it to seem like he’s actually working). It’s just how he works. From what they’ve heard of you from Akira, you work just the same. Except here you are, carrying the conversation with strangers you’ve just met when Ann or Ryuji would typically be the ones to do so.

Ryuji leans closer to Ann. “Bet you five they’re going to date by the end of this month.”

Ann snorts. “Make it ten. They’ll date next month.”

  
  
  
  


It’s habit to sit on the couch in front of the office table as Akira works on his desk.

It’s also a habit for you to stare at him as he works, as creepy as that sounds. You can’t help it when your eyes train on his hand that’s writing away. You can’t help it that you notice that he blinks his sleepiness away. Which doesn’t help, mind. He still falls asleep at his desk by the end of a particularly grueling day.

It’s a habit to pretend as if you’re working, only to stare at Akira while later.

It’s not a habit for Akira to catch you glancing up at him; especially not for him to wink at you once you had accidentally made eye contact.

You look away, shifting in your seat. Your head is bowed so that your hair covers the view of your face from him. Not like it mattered. Now he knows you’re flustered. You groan internally.

Akira stands, making his way over to you and tugs gently on your hair.

You tilt your head up at him, though you can tell your face is still burning by the brightened look in his eyes and twitch on his lips.

“Let’s have lunch together,” he finally says. As if it were the first time he’s asked.

You stand, and Akira already as a hand on your back to gently push you forward through the door.

  
  
  
  


Akira isn’t the only one who can play games, you think, keeping your legs close to his so that they’re sure to remain touching his the entire time.

He looks at you with a certain look in his eye, and moves his leg further against your thigh. He slowly makes his way to your inner thigh, all while maintaining eye contact. 

You gasp, looking away and down at your food, but refusing to move your legs otherwise. This is a game you can’t lose. Akira already has the upper hand -- and in most situations like these, he always does. You want an edge on him too. You want to see him blush and stutter.

Akira’s conscious enough to stop, but as with you, his leg remains close to your inner thigh. Your lips quiver at the feeling.

Akira hides a laugh behind a small cough. You refuse to admit defeat.

He clears his throat, leaning back against his seat. He reminds you of the conversation the two of you had in the car ride to the courthouse. He had mentioned that he’s never really dated, and the idea of marriage had never really crossed his mind.

“I’d like to get married someday, though;” and he doesn’t bother to hide the small smirk he has. Asshole.

The thought makes you shift, thighs accidentally rubbing against his; and of course, he doesn’t miss the way heat rises to your cheeks.

Deceptively, he manages to make you imagine a life married with him. It’s an alarmingly charming image. He’d drive you home, and you can easily imagine him hugging you from behind as you cook. How easy it would be for him to convince you to sway with him to a song only he can hear. How you’d wake up at the smell of coffee and food at the ready, the brightest smile already on his face as you walk into the kitchen. Only for it to brighten more once he sees you --

Akira grins at your expression.

Just like you, he can envision a married life. Only if you’re his wife, though. Only if he gets to wake up everyday to see you, and fall asleep next to you. Only if he gets to kiss the ring on your finger, only to pull you closer towards him.

“Me too,” you cough. “I… Want to get married too.”

He raises an eyebrow. Challenging. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You don’t take the bait. Because that means you’d have to show him just how flustered he’s made you just by the thought of  _ marriage _ .  _ Marriage with him _ .

He already knows, though, you’re sure.

  
  
  
  


Ever the tease, he chooses to sit next to you as the two of you discuss a new case after lunch. He claims that he can “lay out the papers easier. This table is bigger than mine;” and you’re tempted to call him out. The tables are obviously the same size.

Yet the way his thighs press against you makes your tongue flubber.

Like always, the both of you fall into an easy silence. The both of you stare hard at the papers splayed on the table.

Akira gently pushes his fingertips into your thigh squished against his to get your attention. His arm rests on your thigh as you relay your own information to him.

You ghost your fingertips over his forearm, unconsciously following the trail of his veins.

You two hit a block soon enough. Wondering what to do next, who to suspect now, and who to get more information from, the two of you pause.

Akira sighs. He stands to stretch, rocking his head to the left and right as he unbuttons two buttons on his shirt.

You nearly implode at his bold gesture. You flick your eyes to the papers in front of you, hoping he hadn't caught you staring. 

You didn’t know how it was possible, but the silence in the room seemed to become even more quieter as the two of you try to garner some viable form of congruence between the defendant and the plaintiff.

You jump when Akira leans over, tugging a strand of your hair. Before you can respond, he places a kiss on the lock of hair.

You squeak, jerking out of his grasp and capturing his wrist in your hand. Akira quickly maneuvers his hand to hold yours. Very quickly, and very briefly, does he press the barest of kisses on the back of your hand. 

“We could use the client’s co-worker as a witness!” You blurt out.

Akira stares at you. You stare at him with eyes wide and teeth chewing on your lower lip.

Suddenly, he laughs, squeezing your hand affectionately. “I knew you had something.”

You nod lamely, not knowing how to respond properly. You wish he didn’t make your heart run so fast; but he also manages to make it skip a beat. It was like your heart played at the rhythm only Akira could play at.

**Author's Note:**

> Can't wait until you two finally get together. So much cuddling, you won't even believe it.
> 
> If you like my works, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi here: https://ko-fi.com/itsautumnherefriend


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